


The benefits of C-Sec issued handcuffs

by Lost_gallifrey



Series: Friends with benefits [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Handcuffs, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Revenge Sex, Shameless Smut, kinky aliens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_gallifrey/pseuds/Lost_gallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Garrus is insatiable, and his idea of flirting is driving Wrex to distraction. Its time the Krogan taught Garrus a thing or two about dominance. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The benefits of C-Sec issued handcuffs

Wrex was in hell.

Never before, in all his many centuries of life, had the krogan biotic considered himself anything approaching 'sexually confused.' Wrex liked females: lusty krogan females with thick hips, broad shoulders, and muscles you could really get your hands around. The only exception he could think of was a busty batarian pirate captain he'd once bedded who was almost as good. A busty batarian pirate captain, and apparently Garrus Vakarian.

Males had never held much appeal for Wrex. Sure in his youth he'd slapped quads with several of his yearmates......but that was to be expected: no self respecting female would touch a young male who hadn't taken their rite yet. Whatever the reason, at least they had been krogan.

Turians were not a race to be lusted after. In Wrex's opinion they were a species barely above salarians.....and far below asari, who were reasonably fuckable if one had had enough ryncol first. Turians were astoundingly ugly in Wrex's opinion: Scrawny, bony, far too angular, with the bizarre habit of painting their faces and bodies with patterns that would make a whore blush. None of that explained why Wrex had spent the last two weeks wanting to push Vakarian up against a wall and fuck him until he couldn't stand.

Wrex blamed the human spectre. Never, since the distant days of his rite of passage, had Wrex ever lacked for companionship. Females back home were wet and willing the second his boots hit irradiated Tuchanka dirt. But here, stuck on a human opperated vessel, Wrex had become sexually frustrated. That was the only reason for his temporary lapse into insanity......it was simple frustration. After all, Wrex reasoned, every krogan knew that males with no relief could get backed up and go mad. 

That explained everything. Wrex's sadly neglected quad was making him go insane.

In a horrific moment of weakness, Wrex had accessed a cache of krogan/turian porn on the extranet. The seemingly endless montage of cross-species rutting had made the krogan so ill he had assumed himself cured of his (clearly temporary)....disability. In celebration, Wrex clotheslined Vakarian and tossed the shocked turian down the stairs between decks.

Unfortunately, Alenko had witnessed the entire incident. After solicitously helping Garrus up, the young human had coldly informed Wrex that he the whole thing had been 'seriously uncalled for'. Wrex had spent the rest of the day stomping around the Normandy in a foul mood: not only had he been reprimanded by a weedy human biotic, but the look of shocked hurt on Vakarian's face hadn't felt as good as the krogan had thought it would.

That night, Vakarian had his revenge.

Wrex was nearly asleep. Facing the wall on his cramped human bunk, he was just starting to slip into oblivion when he had the strange feeling of being watched. Slowly turning over, Wrex realized that Garrus was wide awake and watching him with eyes that flared animal green in the low light. And the turian was naked.

Aghast, Wrex watched Vakarian slick his palm with that overlong tongue before wrapping his hand around a very obvious erection. Pressly snored, thankfully oblivious, in the upper bunk, while Garrus put on a fornax worthy show below him.

Wrex considered ignoring him......but it was more or less impossible. Not with the way Vakarian was arching into his own grip with a complete lack of shame, the movements making his plating bend and shift like painted armor.

By the time Vakarian came in almost eerie silence, Wrex was hard enough to break concrete. Resting on his elbows, spread thighs wet with his own cum, the turian panted silently, eyes fixed on the stunned krogan with predatory intensity. 

Wrex figured something (beyond the obvious) was going on when Vakarian's mandibles spread into that familiar smirk, as he casually licked the taste of himself off his talons.

Wrex was wracking his brains for somewhere (anywhere!) private he could take the turian, when the smug bastard's grin got even wider......and he simply rolled over and went to sleep.

“Goodnight Wrex,” he even had the audacity to add, flanged voice bright with well-faked innocence. 

Stunned, Wrex glared in thwarted rage at his now completely unappealing view of blankets and Vakarian's bony back. For a bent credit chit, he would have tested his new incendiary ammo on the sleeping figure. Unfortunately he'd managed to leave his shotgun in its locker....so Wrex stayed in his bunk, aching, and seething with frustrated fury.

The next day, Garrus managed to get himself assigned to a ground team....so Wrex ransacked his locker.

The krogan had an idea what he was looking for, and he found it under a tattered stack of fornax issues and weapons manuals. Vakarian's C-Sec gear......weapons belt, shoulder harness, ID, taser, baton......handcuffs.

“Ah.....is that yours?” Ashley watched in wide-eyed disapproval as Wrex stomped past with an armload of ill-gotten goods.

“It is now,” Wrex grumped, hand tightening on his purloined gear in anticipation. This was going to be fun.

Predictably, Vakarian didn't come back upstairs with the rest of the ground crew. After all who would want to rest and eat when there was horrific, Shepard inspired, mako destruction to repair.

Vakarian was crouched on those weird, splay toed feet when Wrex entered the hangar bay. He was humming along to some inane turian music that played through his visor, and didn't even notice the krogan.

Wrex stood and simply savored the moment. The sheer power his plan had provided him was enough to make his armor feel tight. His breath and heartbeat hammered in his ears like a maw hammer as Wrex stared down at the oblivious turian. Some scrap of self preservation must have overridden Garrus' distractions, and he had time stare at Wrex in confusion for a second before the krogan pulled the trigger.

Wrex had been grudgingly careful to set the taser to it's lowest setting, and insured it wouldn't do any kind of lasting harm. Even with a relatively low current, Vakarian jolted and went down in a heap like he'd been poleaxed. Apparently C-sec didn't mess around.

Dragging the shocked turian with him, Wrex clambered into the mako, locking the door behind him. He would have preferred to have somewhere less enclosed, but at least it was private and, thankfully, soundproofed.

Knowing he probably didn't have all that much time before Garrus woke up, Wrex went to work. The handcuffs were a remarkable piece of ingenuity: heavy duty, multi-species and more or less unbreakable. Looping the connecting cable around the support strut for the turret seat, Wrex gleefully secured Vakarian's hands. The hight of the bench would give the turian about enough slack to get to his knees, which suited Wrex just fine.....that was exactly where he wanted him anyway.

The baton had been turned into an improvised bit. Wrex jammed it crosswise at the back of the turian's mouth. Carefully maneuvering the piece until it sat right and pushed Garrus' mandibles down just enough to be uncomfortable, Wrex secured it behind his head with straps cut from the weapons belt he had stolen. Not big enough to impede the whelp's breathing, but certainly enough to keep that smart mouth busy.

Unlatching enough of his armor to make himself more comfortable, Wrex settled down to wait. After weeks of frustration, the mere sight of his tormentor bound, at his mercy, was enough to make the krogan's cock twitch.

It didn't take Vakarian long to wake up. Wrex watched gleefully as the confused turian mouthed at the obstruction in his mouth, gagging slightly as an attempt to move his mandibles pressed the bit uncomfortably into his upper palate. Making a noise in his chest like an engine trying to start, Garrus turned his attention to the wrist restraints. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the low light, the turian bucked and twisted against the handcuffs. Eventually giving up and resting on his knees with head hanging and chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

:Should leave you like that,” Wrex mused aloud, feeling his quad tighten at the sight. “Suits you, whelp.”

“Wrex? What the fuck?” Garrus growled.......or at least that's what Wrex assumed he said. Through the confines of the bit it sounded more like: “eeexs? Aaht ah uck?”

“See, your problem Vakarian,” Wrex levered himself up so he could look down at his captive. “Is that you think you're funny.”

“Aaaht?”Vakarian tried to scrub the bit off by twisting his head to rub the straps against his cowl.

“Stop that!” Wrex cuffed Garrus across the head. Not hard enough to do much more than sting, but enough to make him pay attention.

A shiver wracked the turian, and Wrex narrowed his eyes in sudden understanding. A rough hand confirmed his suspicions; Vakarian's combat fatigues were already damp at the groin with sexual fluid, and he was pressed, hard and unplated, against the seam of the material.

“You're fucked up, Vakarian.” Wrex rumbled in vaguely disgusted admiration.

Pacing behind the bound turian, Wrex used a hand on his fringe to pull his captive's head sharply back. “”Yeah, you seem to think you're funny....but I'm tired of your little games.” Wrex was close enough that he could smell the turian's natural scent.....gunmetal and spice, overlayed with the saline and hot metal smell of his arousal. 

“You have two choices: I can let you go, and we forget any of this ever happened.” (Wrex wasn't altogether shocked at the emphatic head shake that concept received, for whatever twisted reason, Garrus was clearly as amped up about this situation as the krogan was.) “Or,” Wrex caught a bead of pre-cum from the tip of his heavy cock and wiped it along the edge of Garrus' tongue, “you can start putting that smart mouth to good use.”

Wrex figured the chances of Vakarian actually refusing was about as likely as finding Saren dressed as a matriarch, hosting a formal tea for the human alliance. Which Wrex had to admit was lucky.....the whole situation had him hot enough that he probably would have fucked the mako's turret if the turian had taken the coward's way out.

Regretfully, Wrex undid the straps that held the bit in place. It was a shame, the device had allowed him the most peace and quiet he's had since Vakarian had started loitering around the hanger bay.

Garrus shook his head as Wrex removed the bit, working his jaw to clear the stiffness. Before the turian could fully close his mouth, Wrex caught him by the jaw, where his tattooed mandibles hinged, and pulled his head forward.

“I feel teeth, you lose these,” Wrex gave the mandibles a warning tug. The krogan could feel the bone, or cartillage....or whatever, flexing in his grip. With his mouth still restrained, Garrus settled for curling his tongue along Wrex's thumb in answer, the dextrous musle tracing a wet heat around the krogan's thick skinned digit.

Wrex suspected that oral sex wasn't something that turians did often...really one look at their mouth was all he'd needed to come to that conclusion. That hypothesis was supported when Wrex had (grudgingly) accessed some turian porn on the extranet.......unfortunately that omni-tool had been forever contaminated by the experiment, and Wrex had 'accidentally' dropped it during the next ground mission. (And then stepped on it. Repeatedly.) Krogan, on the other hand, with their wide, fleshy mouths, and broad flat tongues, excelled at anything that required oral involvement.

So Vakarian had been understandingly tentative at first. Wrex had been forced to give his fringe a sharp tug to get him to put some effort into it. Garrus had given a low hum of approval at the treatment, and his next tongue stroke was more enthusiastic.

The turian's tongue was slick and wet, with a long strip of rougher skin down the center that set of fireworks in Wrex's brain with every slow rasp. Rocking forward, Wrex gave a grunt of pleasure as Garrus changed tactics, angling his head to lick and mouth at the krogan's engorged quad with flexible mouthplates.

Retrieving the discarded bit, Wrex tapped it against Garrus' lower jaw. “Open,” he ordered gruffly when the turian flicked him a baffled glance, obviously not quite understanding what Wrex wanted.

Keeping the edge of the re-purposed baton tight against Garrus' jaw in a silent warning, Wrex rocked his hips forward, slowly pushing into the almost uncomfortable heat of the turian's mouth. It was nothing at all like the soft folds of a krogan mouth, nothing like the willing females Wrex had had in the past. 

Shoving deeper, Wrex felt Vakarian gag slightly as the krogan's cock rubbed against the ribbed flesh of his throat. Saliva flooded the turian's mouth, slicking Wrex as Garrus struggled to accommodate the full girth of the krogan.

“Relax, idiot.” Wrex used the smooth sweep of cartilage fringe to tug Garrus closer, enjoying the inevitable scrape of sharp teeth against his sensitive flesh. For the lesser species' , Wrex guessed the sensation would have bordered on painful, but with a krogan's resilient hide it was just added friction.

“Good...like that.” As Vakarian relaxed into Wrex's movements, the krogan turned his fringe-hold into a rough caress. He'd read somewhere that turians liked having their heads scratched like varren, and it seemed to work, because Garrus arched his back and looked up at the krogan with eyes gone nearly black with arousal.

A low, vibrating trill started in Vakarian's chest, and Wrex shuddered in pleasure as it shivered through the chambers of the turian's throat straight into his cock. 

“Unngh,” Wrex managed to grunt. Given the situation he considered it an impressive and intellectual comment. Garrus gave a huff of amusement at the krogan's degenerating linguistic abilities; Wrex could feel the warmth of his breath where the turian's nose ws almost pressed to his pubic bone.

Wrex had hoped to last longer, but he could feel his orgasm building.....coursing through him in a blitz of nerve impulses and fire. He thrust his hips once, twice, then pulled back to let his cum spatter across Vakarian's tattoo patterned face.

Shuddering as he stroked his cock, still slick and twitching with aftershocks, Wrex surveyed his captive. Vakarian's head was hanging, jaw still stretched wide, mandibles and teeth wet with ropes of slaiva and semen. Feeling maganaimous in his post orgasmic haze, Wrex allowed himself a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, and rubbed thick fingers over the overstretched muscles at the hinges of Garrus' jaw. The turian accepted the touch with grateful hum that turned to a sharp gasp as Wrex smeared the viscous remains of his pleasure along the lines and arcs of Vakarian's colonial tattoos. The look on Garrus' face, half shocked, half driven to body-quivering arousal, made Wrex almost regret what he had planned next. Almost.

Down on one knee, Wrex roughly fumbled his way through the straps and toggles that held Vakarian's pants to his protruding hips. Dragging the material down thin, plated thighs, Wrex wondered why turians had evolved to look perpetually underfed. 

Garrus was shaking by the time Wrex had managed to get his fatigues down to his knees. The turian's retracted pubic plates and softer stomach hide were slick with the pre-sexual fluid he exuded, and in the dim half-light, his cock was almost black, engorged to the point of looking painful.

Wrex hardly had to touch him before Vakarian was writhing in his grip. Being deliberately heavy-handed, Wrex watched avidly as Garrus bucked into his grasp even as he clenched his eyes shut, and gasped out a string of presumed curses that didn't register on Wrex's translator. Did all turians get off on the whole pleasure/pain dynamic, Wrex wondered idly, or was this one just wired wrong.

It was obvious Garrus was close. The shuddering vocal pitches of his voice had long since stopped forming anything as coherent as a word.......so that was the moment Wrex chose to stop.

It took the whelp a few moments to realize that Wrex had left, and was busy buckling on some of the armor he had abandoned earlier. Unable to contain his amusement at the look of confused frustration on Garrus' face, Wrex let a broad grin split his craggy, scarred face.

“Not quite so funny now, is it pup?” Wrex rolled his shoulders to make his armor settle. The big krogan felt good: relaxed and hungry...he was looking forward to a good meal, and a peaceful nights rest.

“Wrex?....what? This isn't..” Garrus looked shocked. It was almost comical, he couldn't have looked more betrayed if Shepard had tossed his favorite sniper rifle out the airlock. “Wait, where are you going?...Wrex!!?”

“I thought you might like some time to think about how funny you really are, Vakarian.” Wrex unlatched the interior door lock. “You keep quiet and I might come get you in the morning, before Shepard needs his tank back. Or you can make noise....I'm sure Williams will come let you out.”

“Dammit, Wrex...you can't just..”Wrex laughed as Vakarian tried fighting against the cuffs, he was about as effective as a three legged varren pup on a maw hunt. Wrex had to admit it was fun to watch the turian struggle though, it suited him.

“C'mon Wrex, please?...this isn't funny!” Vakarian sagged against his bonds, his multi-toned voice plaintive.

“Wrong.” Wrex rumbled, not even trying to conceal his amusement. “It's very funny.” Giving the turian a heavy pat on the head in passing, Wrex managed to school his voice into an obvious mockery of Vakarian's own: “Goodnight, Garrus.”


End file.
